


In an Old World so Different

by mithrilbookofmystery



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dimension Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, I feel like Im absolutely popping off with character designs but only for like. Half of them, IRL Minecraft, Just like. In general. Yeah, Major Character Undeath, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Meta, Mind Meld, Minecraft IRL, Multiverse, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Prison Arc, Ram Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo and tubbo are platonic istg if i see any of yall shipping you can catch these hands, That statement goes both ways, Villian Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur kills c!dream bc he deserves it <3, Winged Wilbur Soot, jacobs sheep tubbo my beloved, technically, to a degree, yes this is an irl fic no it isnt yes it is <3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrilbookofmystery/pseuds/mithrilbookofmystery
Summary: Tommy woke up slowly, blearily blinking his eyes open as someone called out his name."There you are," the voice soothed. It wasn't Wilbur. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."Tommy, still half asleep, noticed one thing immediately: he wasn't in his bed. Or his chair, as he last remembered being. In fact, he was slumped against a wall, one that burned beneath his thin t-shirt that he most definitely was not wearing last. Needless to say, he was awake again within the second.Or, Dream manages to fuck up the resurrection process more than probably intended, and now Tommy isn't TommyInnit, Traumatized Annoyer Extraordinaire™,  he's just Tommy, the Minecraft streamer whose channel blew up a few months ago. But Dream doesn't need to know that.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Wilbur Soot, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 154
Kudos: 978





	1. Tommy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote like 5k words of this fic in one day yesterday and I. h. No clue where this is going tbh but here it is anyways, hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this 3/13/21 bc "the ceiling obsidian in the ceiling" keeps annoying me lmao

Tom was sitting at his desk, Minecraft already pulled up on one monitor and this stream's script pulled up on the other. This first part was obviously more scripted, since his face cam wasn't on to make people aware that he was reading anything, but there was still plenty of room for improv, as he and Wilbur liked it. 

They were nearing the end of the conversation when Tommy first heard it. The chanting. It started faint, ignorable, then grew until it was all he heard. _All_ he heard. 

"Wilbur?" He could see his friend's discord profile lit up in call, but no noise. Nothing but the steady chant, growing louder, **louder.** He started to panic. _"Wilbur?_ Will, mate, I- something's happening, I don't, I don't know, I hear this voice, I--"

And then his head felt like it was pushed under freezing water and he blacked out. 

Tommy woke up slowly, blearily blinking his eyes open as someone called out his name. 

"There you are," the voice soothed. It wasn't Wilbur. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

Tommy, still half asleep, noticed one thing immediately: he wasn't in his bed. Or his chair, as he last remembered being. In fact, he was slumped against a wall, one that burned beneath his thin t-shirt that he most _definitely_ was not wearing last. Needless to say, he was awake again within the second. 

The next thing he noticed was the figure in front of him. It was green, but humanoid, and where its face would be was instead simply a white mask with a smiley face. It was wearing an orange jumper, and Tommy couldn't help but think about some art he saw of Dream in the prison of the SMP on twitter. 

But this- no. That couldn't be Dream. 

"Are you just gonna keep staring at me like that or are you gonna get up? Don't tell me death made you dumb. Well, dumber than you already are." He laughed, and Tommy blanched because _god_ that really did sound like Dream, didn't it? But not like _Clay,_ the one who'd plan streams with him and give him tips on writing assignments for college and who was currently in a battle with him over who could send the other the stupidest tiktok. No, this was _Dream._ The character. The villain. 

Tommy pressed closer against the wall while Dream continued, "C'mon, dude, it's a mute joke. Get it? Because dumb- oh my god, nevermind. At least you're quiet now."

He went over to the other side of the cell, and Tommy watched with rapt attention as he dunked his hands into the cauldron. When Dream took them out, they ran a bit, diluted by the water, before reforming. He did it again, putting his hands under then pulling them out and watching, then repeated for a few minutes as Tom looked around the rest of the cell.

It looked just as it did on his computer, just… _real._ Real-er, he guessed. (How the fuck did he get here anyways?) The warmth from the lava at the entrance could be felt even from the far corner he sat in. Purple droplets gathered at the pointed edges of the obsidian in the ceiling and fell with quiet _drip_ s. He could feel some droplets seeping in through his shirt from where it was set behind him. 

He turned back to Dream, who was still dunking his hands. Tom didn't know if he was washing them or if it was entertaining or what, but he cleared his throat, making Dream stop anyways. 

"I do piss in that, you know." 

Dream just chuckled, low. Tommy couldn't help the flash of fear that coursed through him at the sound (it was _wrong,_ coming from his mouth like that, in this context, when Tommy wasn't sure there was a stream to perform for or an "after" of said stream where both could reassure each other that they didn't really mean it before laughing it all off). _"There_ he is," Dream said. "The hell happened when you died that made you so quiet?"

Tommy looked down at his hands, then up at Dream, whose back was still turned. "Am I dreaming?"

The green man turned. Took a step forward. Tommy moved to go back, but only succeeded in making part of the rock poke through his shirt into his back. "Want me to pinch you to make sure?"

"Uh… sure?"

And then Dream punched him. Right in the face. Tommy gasped as images started to flash through his mind. 

_Dream standing above him, illuminated by the lava, one hand on Tommy's collar, pinning him up on the wall, the other wrapped in Tommy's hair as it brought his head back against the rock again and again and again--_

_Dream standing at the entrance of his hall of treasured items, his sword pressed against Tubbo's (Tubbo? Was that- it looked like him, but the clothes, the hair, the_ horns _were wrong, wrong, wrong) throat as Dream shouted, giving the two an ultimatum--_

_Him and Dream standing on thin paths of obsidian, watching as L'manburg's final explosions finished off from dozens of blocks above--_

_Dream digging a hole in exile, so many holes, so many explosions--_

_Explosions--_

_Dream_

**_Dream_ **

"STOP NO PLEASE!" Tommy had hands in front of his face without even realizing, but Dream was already back on the other side of the cell, laughing. 

"Oh the _look_ on your face, Tommy!" Dream laughed harder before reaching up and wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye. "You look so… _fun_ when you're scared. You should try it more often."

"I don't think I want to, thank you very much."

"Oh _sure_ you don't. But hey, at least you know I was telling the truth now. The book was real. You're _back_ now, Tommy. You're _alive._ Nobody else has died and come back."

 _Besides Jack Manifold,_ Tommy thought, but he supposed he wasn't supposed to know that. Top priority: surviving this conversation. How to do that? Being the character Dream expected him to be. Be TommyInnit, Traumatized Annoyer Extraordinaire™, then wait for Dream's back to be turned to he can figure out how the fuck to get home. (Because he sure as hell wasn't dreaming, if that punch was anything to go by.)

He already had this stream planned out, so he knew what he needed to say, how he needed to act. And to be honest, it wasn't too hard to fake fear in this place. He yelled and flinched in all the right places, screamed at Dream to make sure he knew that Tommy didn't want Wilbur back. Only for Dream to do the exact opposite because of _course--_

 _Wait._ Tommy froze. _If he revived me, and I'm_ here _now, then maybe if he revives Will…_

"Dream. In all seriousness. Do _not_ bring Wilbur back. I'll do anything, just- please--" Tom exaggerated his pleas, stooping so low as to beg. Nausea started to crawl up his gut at the way Dream just laughed.

"Tommy, nothing you say is going to stop me, you get that?"

And Tommy could barely keep his smile in. Yeah, he did get that. He got that loud and clear. 

It took a day and a half for Dream to stop. A day and a half of pure abuse, physical and mental. And what was Tommy going to do against it? He wasn't a trained fighter. He was a fucking Minecraft streamer, that's literally on the opposite end of the spectrum. 

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to be able to curl up in his bed and cry without Dream laughing at him from the other side of the cell. He wanted the stream to be over, dammit, he wanted to unwind and take off his persona and take a nap. 

Dream asleep looked… weird. He climbed into the chest and let his blobulous form completely melt, making a weird green soup inside the box. Tommy opened it to make sure he was gone; the mask stared up at him, but said nothing. He closed the chest.

He went back over to the front of the cell, where the lava was. It was warm; he liked it there. Sitting down, he dug around in his pockets for something, _anything,_ until he pulled out what looked like a flimsy smartphone. He turned it on to see what was essentially game chat. It was a comms system.

Frantic now, he hit the message box and typed as quickly as he could.

_You whisper to Awesamdude: sam sam SAM SAM SAM_

_You whisper to Awesamdude: DREAM RESSURECETEDD NE HELP HELP_

_You whisper to Awesamdude: GET ME OUT PLEASE SAM I NEED YOU NOW PELASE HLEP_

_You whisper to Awesamdude: SAM_

_You whisper to Awesamdude: IM ALIVE_

Tommy stared at the comms, his breathing rushed. He felt like he had just run a marathon, and he was on high alert as he glanced back over at the chest. Dream was still asleep. Good.

_Awesamdude whispers to you: Wait, what?_

_You whisper to Awesamdude: THIS IS SERIOUS SERIOUSLY BIG MAN HELP_

_Awesamdude whispers to you: I'm coming, I'll be there as quick as I can. Dont worry._

_Awesamdude whispers to you: Please stay safe. I'll be there soon and I'll get you out, I promise_

Tommy could almost cry. He'd been doing it enough these past day or so anyways, it wasn't too hard. 

He was safe. Or, well, he would be safe. And from there he'd be able to go home. Hopefully.

Dream reformed a few minutes later, and he walked over to where Tommy was still curled up by the entrance. He nudged the boy with his foot. Tommy didn't respond.

"You know, I don't get why you keep sitting over here," the man said. "Nobody's coming for you."

Tommy hid his smirk, instead curling further in on himself. "'s warm."

Dream hummed, then put his arm out and stuck his hand in the lava. Tommy's breath caught in fear as he watched his hand melt and reform, just like it had in water.

"I don't think it's too hot," said Dream. "Why don't you try?"

Tommy shook his head. "The fuck, dude? Why the hell would I do that?"

Dream didn't move, but the boy could tell he was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He shrugged. "I told you, it's not that hot."

"Yeah and I'm Philza Minecraft. I'm not a fucking idiot, you know. I still have common sense, Will knocks it into me often enough."

Dream started to say something, but he was interrupted by a loud _thunk_ of gears starting to move. He stepped back, arms raised defensively as he looked around wildly. "The _fuck,"_ he hissed. "What. The _fuck._ Did you _do?"_ He turned to Tommy at the last word, seething with rage.

Dream started to surge forward in an attack only to stumble back into the main cell as the netherite row shot up, diving the two and keeping Dream in. Tommy was the one to laugh now. 

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU _DO,_ YOU LITTLE SHIT?!" Dream was growing, his green body literally boiling with rage. Tommy froze, stepping back with wide eyes. "I'LL FUCKING-- YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"

Tommy took another step back, the imposing heat of the lava at his back. He felt it bubble up and singe his shirt, then his back as it burned through. He winced.

And then it was gone. He turned to see the lava down and the bridge already on his side of the chasm. He stepped on with a breathless laugh, then turned and gave Dream the middle finger as he walked away.

Halfway across, he turned back around to the front just in time to see a figure step out into the area where the bridge would land. They were a furry, green, centaur-type creature, with the face of a creeper. They wore armor on both their upright chest and the chest that made up their main body, and had a thin ringlet of gold in their hair, almost like a crown. They held a trident. 

_Is this Sam? Because if so, holy_ shit _is Sam badass here. Oh my god._

Then they spoke. Their voice was soft, unsure. "Tommy?"

And yep, that was Sam. "Hey, big man. Sorry about the, uh. The dying. I guess." Tom winced. Not a good impression, but hey, give him a break, he'd been acting before a madman for the past two days. He didn't ask for this.

"I-" Sam laughed. "Tommy, and I mean this in every way possible, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, dude."

Tommy watched as probably a thousand different emotions went through Sam's face at once and winced. Probably not the best thing to say, in all honesty. Instead of saying anything more, he turned back to Dream, who was still screaming. 

"YOU WANT TO LEAVE?!" Dream's mad shouts echoed throughout the empty room. Tommy huddled closer to Sam's steady form. "NO, YOU--" Dream cut himself off with a laugh. _"NO!_ YOU REALLY WANT TO GO BACK OUT _THERE?!_ WITHOUT _ME?_ I'd love to see you _try._ You said you don't want Wilbur back? You said he'll _ruin everything?_ NO! HE'LL- HE'LL BE PERFECT! JUST YOU WATCH!" And then he started chanting. And glowing, a green light started to fill the space.

Sam took a step back, brows furrowed. "What is he doing?"

"I don't- I don't know. I think he might- I think he's resurrecting Wilbur." Tommy looked up at the centaur, trying not to let his hope shine through. Now was not the time to show weakness, not when Dream could still see them. "We should probably get the fuck outta here."

"Yeah, probably. Get on my back, you look… I don't think you should be walking on your own right now."

Tommy nodded, then scrambled up on his back. The armor underneath him was uncomfortable; it clearly wasn't meant for riding. A small voice in the back of his head said that this was for a reason, nobody rode Sam's back. This was special. (Dream's chants, which steadily increased in volume as the two turned and left, didn't exactly help the moment, though.)

"C'mon kid, let's get you home."


	2. Wilbur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple people asked about it, so [here's](https://viceravermillion.tumblr.com/post/635948450079490048/a-little-awesamdude-design-feat-big-q) [some](https://ohgodwhatthefu.tumblr.com/post/642504396960399360/yuhhh-babeyy) [art](https://dreamsurvivormultiplayer.tumblr.com/post/641334653211574272/some-dream-smp-lads-in-tacky-t-shirts) that uses a similar design for Sam as used in this fic! The pieces themselves aren't affiliated with this fic, of course, but they're definitely the vibes I was going for for his design (especially the last one).
> 
> Also Tubbo's horns are based on Jacob's Sheep bc why not. They're cool. Fuck you (/lh). 
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Wilbur was sitting on Phil's couch, a bottle of wine sitting temptingly on the coffee table in front of him. It was cheap, probably not even that good; it was just the first thing he could find. Before he could even think of reaching for it, though, Phil came into view and grabbed it.

"Will, mate, you gotta stop this." Phil moved to the kitchen, where he put the bottle somewhere Wilbur couldn't see. "I thought I got rid of all of these. Where did you even get this?"

"Tesco."

_"Wilbur."_

"... Sorry."

Phil sighed as he moved back to the living room and sat down next to Wilbur. He put a hand on his shoulder consolingly. "I know."

Wilbur hummed, not looking at him. There was silence for a minute until Will spoke up again. "It's just… he's _gone,_ ya know? Tommy's… They don't even have a lead."

"It's only been two days."

Wilbur finally made eye contact. "Most missing persons are assumed dead after the first 24 hours."

"Don't say that."

"It's true!"

"I'll make you go back to your house if you're going to be such a downer about it, jesus." 

Wilbur winced at that, and Phil softly smiled in response. "I was kidding, Will. Promise. You can stay as long as you need, lord knows we all need the company. 

Will smiled back. Leaning onto Phil's shoulder, he let himself relax. He started to go to sleep, the hangover he was still sporting making his head pound. But with eyes halfway shut, he froze. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The--" The chanting. It had started quiet, but now it couldn't be ignored. He could hear it in his mind, growing louder, starting to hurt alongside the searing migraine. He stood up and the world tilted, the chanting echoed louder and _louder_ and he tried covering his ears, tried screaming, tried everything he could think of but it wouldn't leave it wouldn't _leave._

He looked up and could see Phil's frantic face, could see his mouth moving but couldn't hear any words. Just chanting, just- just Dream. Only Dream. Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, and--

And it was quiet. 

_Too_ quiet. He couldn't hear the humming of Phil's central heating, couldn't hear the cars outside, nothing. 

He opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the rubble around him. How could he not, honestly? It stretched on all around him until it hit cliffs that towered above him. He was right at the edge of one of them. Looking down, he could see a lone wooden button right by his foot. 

He could tell where this was going and he _did not_ like it. 

He started walking, looking around. Quickly, he arrived upon the L'manburg flag at the bedrock, surrounded by red vines. The cloth was torn and tattered, and the plant matter around it _pulsed_ with life. Wilbur grimaced, taking a step back. He could _smell_ the vines from where he stood, sulfurous and toxic. He stepped away, looking up instead at the glass ceiling. 

Someone was on it, looking down at him. He couldn't see them well enough to tell who it was, but they broke the glass and stuck their head down through the opening they made quickly enough.

"Hello?!" The person shouted, and oh, that was Ranboo. Wilbur was on call with him just the day before, to break the news to him and Tubbo that Tommy had- Tommy-- 

"Ranboo?"

"Hi!" The teen smiled. "I don't think we've met before, but if we have and I just forgot I'm really sorry! That happens sometimes!"

Wilbur couldn't help but smile at his nervous yet friendly tone. "No, you're fine! We haven't met!"

Ranboo said something but Will was too far away to hear. Ranboo seemed to notice that, and said, "Oh sorry, let me come down to you, hold on," then leaped down to the chasm, landing in a squat as he let his legs follow through with the momentum.

Up close, Wilbur could see how tall he was. Once he stood, his lanky form towered above Will by a good foot or so, which was most definitely saying something. His skin was half pitch-black and half milk-white, which carried up into his hair. His eyes were different colors, red and green, and the gold in his small crown and the enchantments of his armor glinted in the sunlight. Long story short, this Ranboo was not human, in any sense of the word. 

To be precise, he was half enderman. Wilbur didn't know what the fuck to do about that, but he decided to just go with it for the time being. 

"How did you survive that jump?" Will chuckled awkwardly.

Ranboo patted his chestplate. "Oh, just good armor, I guess. Before I started the hotel with Tubbo, grinding for supplies was the most interesting thing to do, honestly." He shrugged. "I'm not one for wars, ya know?"

Wilbur smiled. "Not really, but ok."

"Most people don't. You need help out?"

"Oh, please."

Ranboo started to lead him out of the pit, starting towards one of the cliffs before digging in and making a small staircase up. They talked about little things on the way, like the smell ("Oh, it's definitely gotten worse since I was last here," Ranboo said. "Probably because we put the glass over it. I don't think it likes being caged in too much.") and where, exactly, did Wilbur get his sweater, because it looked really warm (it was the one Phil had given him the night before, apparently a hand me down from his father, with a long sleeved piece of Wilbur's own merch thrown on top. He didn't know how he was still wearing it in this impossible world. Wilbur didn't say that, though, instead just shrugging and saying, "It's from a friend, I think."). It was quickly decided that Wilbur could stay at the Bee n' Boo hotel for the time being, if he wanted. Wilbur wanted. 

Will's first look of the SMP once above ground was… breathtaking. Not necessarily in a good way, but not in a bad way, either. He stopped at the top of the stairs that once led into L'manburg and looked over the ruins. The flag was still visible. He looked forward and saw the Big Innit Hotel in the distance, accompanied in the skyline by countless towers, big and small. He was in awe at the sight of it all.

Ranboo kept going a few steps, but stopped and looked back when he saw that Wilbur wasn't following. "Coming?"

"Hmm?" Wilbur snapped back to reality. Or what was his new reality now, he supposed. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. It just… it all looks so different."

Ranboo nodded then started moving again. "Ok, there's a lot more vines coming up, so be careful. And I should probably take you to the church first, just in case, since I have no idea how long you were down there. Plus you smell, no offense. Then we should go to Snowchester, I think Tubbo would be a bigger help to you than I am right now." He chuckled. "Sorry."

After a quick stop at Church Prime where Will quickly dunked his head under the flowing water and a hike through the woods that honestly took longer than he was expecting, they finally made it to the Snowchester cabin. Ranboo went up first, saying that Wilbur "should probably stay here for a sec, I'll tell Tubbo what's going on."

So here Wilbur stood, in the snow, shivering a bit more than he should be, honestly, due to how wet his hair still was. He watched as Ranboo hoped the door, picked up the baby zombie pigman that rushed into his arms at the sight of him ( _Michael,_ his mind supplied), and said something Will couldn't hear to someone inside. Then Ranboo turned and nodded at him with a smile, and Wilbur walked up and entered the cabin.

The place seemed cozy, albeit very messy. The kitchen table was littered with scraps of paper and items were lying around outside of their correct chests. There was a painting against a side wall of the family, which Will recognized from Twitter. Standing in front of it was Tubbo.

The boy was the same height as he was in real life, and the face looked the same, which was a bit of a relief. (Though the height difference between him and Ranboo was almost laughable.) But that was where the similarities stopped. His face was tired, exhausted, the dark bags under his eyes betraying the fact that he was probably going to collapse at any second. His hair was blond, but only the tips. Not in a way that said he wanted only his tips blond, but more in a way that said it used to all be blond, but it had been months since he died it and now the first couple inches of his roots were brown again. And his _horns._ God, his horns. One pair was fully grown and wrapped around his head, framing his face in a lopsided circle, and the other, while only half-grown, were starting to go straight back and up from the top of his head. 

_This is wrong,_ said a voice in his head. It was unfamiliar, foreign-- but undeniably _him,_ undeniably _Wilbur_ nonetheless. _His horns shouldn't be that big, the first pair had just barely started when I left him--_

Will shook the thought away, instead taking in Tubbo's shocked face. "Tubbo?"

_"Wilbur?!"_

"Oh!" Ranboo seemed excited, at least. "You guys know each other, then?"

Tubbo turned to him. "Ranboo, when you said you 'found some guy in the ruins' I didn't think you meant _Wilbur fucking Soot,_ I--" He turned to Will. "And where are your wings?!"

"My wha--?" Wilbur's eyebrows furrowed with confusion before he was hit with a tidal wave of- of- he didn't even know how to describe it. _Wrongness,_ maybe, because this was not his body (but it was but it _wasn't_ but it **_was)._** _Loss,_ of worn hands and well-earned scars and his wings, his _wings,_ that were always a part of him and yet also never were. He stumbled, head in his hands. "Look, I don't know what's happening either, to be fair," he eventually said. "Not a goddamn clue. All I know is that I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yeah no _shit_ you're not supposed to be here, you're _supposed_ to be dead!"

Ranboo's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. _"Dead?!"_

"No, not just that!" Wilbur butted in. "I'm not supposed to be _here._ In this world. I'm not-- I'm not _Wilbur,_ I- I mean, I am, technically, but not- I don't _know._ I don't know, I just heard chanting and then I woke up in the ruins. It's hard to explain."

"Start from the beginning, then." Ranboo put Michael down, letting him run around, then moved to the couch. Tubbo followed, then Wilbur moved to stand in front of the two of them. Even though he stood above them now, he couldn't help but feel as though they were judging him. Deciding his fate. 

"Two days ago, Tommy went missing. In my world. Which I'm pretty sure is different than this one, because in _my_ world, this one is fake."

"... What?"

"Tubbo, please. Just give me a second." Wilbur took a deep breath before continuing. "He was - I probably shouldn't be telling you guys this, but - he was doing the stream where Dream was supposed to revive him. Because in _my_ world, this is all a story that we're acting out in. In a videogame. I see your faces, I'm giving you existential crises I _know,_ I'm _sorry._ I just-- this is the only way I can really explain it.

"Right when his character was revived, Tommy stopped talking, and when- when…" _Don't cry don't cry don't cry_ "When his mum went to check up on him, because I- I was in call and watching and I saw him not responding, so I called his mum, and went she went up to his room, he- he was _gone."_ Oops, he's crying anyways. "No trace of a struggle, or even him leaving his chair or anything, just gone. I was staying over at Phil's for a few days and we were talking, and then I heard the chanting and woke up… down there. Yeah." He sniffed and wiped his eyes before huffing and straightening up. "Any questions?"

Tubbo and Ranboo stared dumbfounded. Michael squeaked. "So many, big man," Tubbo eventually got out. 

"Understandable. But, I mean, we've probably got all day, right?"

Ranboo nodded and Tubbo shrugged, and Wilbur sat down on the floor in front of them. He started to speak.


	3. Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing a very cool chapter: :) pogchamp  
> Me realizing yall aren't gonna see it for a while bc it's like a good 6 chapters away from where we're at right now and I haven't even finished the chapter for tomorrow yet: :( sogdamp
> 
> Also!!! Holy shit yall love this fic, dont you, I'm! It's only been a couple days but I've already gotten so many kudos and comments and ahh <3 I love yall, thank you so much for reading, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

Sam and Tommy made their way through the prison slowly. Sam stopped at the first checkpoint, where Tommy would have to go through a small channel of water, clearly lost in thought. 

"Shouldn't I get off here?" Tom asked.

Sam hummed, then moved so he stood in front of the entrance to warden's passage. "I don't want to risk you losing another life right now. Just… close your eyes, you're not supposed to see this part of the prison."

Tommy nodded, then burrowed his face into the soft green fur of Sam's back. He heard the soft _thump_ s of Sam's paws(? feet? They certainly weren't hooves, but beyond that Tom wasn't sure) as they hit the ground, the ominous _whoosh_ es of the guardians in the walls, the clicking of buttons and redstone controls as Sam worked his way through each area. 

He eventually spoke up. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?" More clicks. 

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course you can, Tommy." His voice was soft, softer than Tom had ever heard it, roleplay or not. "What happened?"

"I'm not… I'm not Tommy."

Sam froze. Tom could feel the muscles tense underneath him. "What?"

"Not like that, not like that! I mean, I am _Tommy,_ just not _this_ Tommy. Not the one you know."

"Like an alternate universe or something?" As he spoke, he continued moving.

"Yeah, somethin' like that. Dream really fucked up the resurrection process, that's for sure. I think. Genuinely no fucking clue what to do right now, in all honesty. I just wanna go home. Back to my mum and dad and my dogs and, hell, I even fuckin' miss college, isn't that saying something."

Sam was quiet for a minute before muttering, "I can imagine." 

"Do you believe me?"

"I… I think I might. You know what they say, life's weird enough as it is, this may as well happen." Tommy huffed out a laugh, and there was one last series of clicks before Sam stopped again. "You can open your eyes now."

Tommy straightened up and looked around. They were in the lobby of the prison, and holy _shit_ it was huge. "You built all this by _hand?!"_

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. It's impressive, sure, but I mean anyone could do it."

"Yeah, but it's even more fuckin' _impressive_ when it ain't a videogame or some shit. I mean it's still fuckin cool as shit then but this- this is _real!_ The real deal!" He laughed, then slid off Sam's back. "Like, that's some sick shit, man!"

Sam smiled. "Glad to see you back to normal." He tilted his head, reconsidering his words. "Or I guess, back to my Tommy's normal? Unless that's offensive or something, I don't know--"

Tom barked out a laugh. "Nah mate, you're fine. We're similar enough anyways, I'm just less traumatized and shit, ya know?"

Sam hummed and moved over to a lever. A wall opened beside the boy. "You can go get your stuff, Tommy. Do you know how the key system works?"

Tommy nodded and stepped into the other, much smaller room. As he stepped up to the enderchest in the corner, he could feel the energy it emitted humming around him. Cautiously, he put a hand on the lid and opened it. 

A small book was haphazardly placed on top; the key. Ignoring that for a second, Tom looked further into the chest to see a few other things: a small stack of disks placed gently to one side, a folded up piece of leather, a few blocks of diamond and emerald, a rusty dagger, a creeper head, a couple more books. Tommy took the key and closed it, then went over to the button in the wall and put the key in, opening the normal chest. 

He put his armor on first, his shaking hands somehow knowing exactly how the clasps came together. The shimmer from the enchantments swirled in his eyes. He could have sworn he was going to be sick at the sight of it. Instead, he took his sword from the bottom of the chest and sheathed it in the scabbard at his hip.

Everything else he touched and it disappeared, but he could still feel it on him, clearly in some sort of inventory. He left the room with only his hardhat in hand, before putting that away too at the sight of Sam.

"Ready to go back?" The centaur asked. "I know we don't exactly have a way to get you to your real home yet, but I feel like staying somewhere familiar to your body would do you some good."

"Oh, I feel like I could sleep for a million years, big man!" Tommy grinned. He walked alongside Sam this time, not riding him; they came to the mutual silent agreement that that would be best, at this point. To save both their dignities. 

Once outside, Sam took the lead. "Let's hope nobody sees us," he said. "Everyone still thinks you're dead. It… might be best that way, at least for now."

"Hmm. Yeah, I've got a lotta enemies here, don't I?"

"You could say that, yes."

Despite how fast Sam urged him to go, it took Tom a good half hour to make it to his dirt house if one included all the times he stopped to take in the sight of everything. Every new building they came across, he would stand and stare until Sam pushed him onwards (sometimes literally). Luckily, however, they made it without running into anyone, and Tommy entered his house with a sigh of breath he didn't know he was holding.

Sam watched as Tom went to the back room of the house and discarded his armor. Sam had to duck his head to fit, but looked into the room the best he could nonetheless. "Hey, message me if you need anything, ok? I'll be back in the morning to check in."

"Mmk."

Sam nodded awkwardly as Tom collapsed into bed, then left. The boy listened to the receding pats of his footfalls before turning over in bed. He grabbed the pillow behind him and started at the ceiling. 

Maybe this was all a bad dream. Maybe the night he spent in the prison was a fluke, and this time he would wake up back in his own bed where none of this was real. Where he wasn't abused by some green blob. Where he didn't have to put on armor just to survive outside because everyone around him wanted him dead. Where he had at least _some_ idea of what the fuck was going on with his life. 

He heard shuffling outside and sat up. Sam poked his head back through the door. "Uh, some people are here to see you." Then he moved aside, letting the people through. 

The first was Ranboo, if Tommy had to guess. His enderman heritage was obvious now, with the particles surrounding him and the fact that he was seven goddamn feet tall. Then came Tubbo, with weird hair and weird horns and an even weirder face, if only because he looked so conflicted. Tom had never liked it when his friend looked like that, had always wanted to make him feel better.

And then came Wilbur. Tommy couldn't help but gasp.


	4. Wilbur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion pog :)

In the end, it didn't take all day to answer all of the platonic couple's questions. 

The first question was, of course, the issue of Tommy being not-dead. He tried to explain it the best he could, how Dream had resurrected him using the book Schlatt gave him, and for the most part the two seemed to be accepting of it, albeit shaken. 

"It's just," Tubbo butted in at one point, "This is the second time I thought he was dead and he wasn't, you know. And yeah, he- he  _ was  _ actually dead this time, but." He sighed, using his hand to hide his face. "I had only just started grieving, you know? And now I have to start all over again."

Ranboo rubbed his back as he cried. Wilbur just sat there awkwardly, trying not to make a noise. 

The thing is, he understood. Two days ago, he'd been on call with Tommy when the boy very abruptly stopped talking, stopped responding. After a few minutes of frantic DMs to Tommy (never answered) and from Dream (who was also in the call, waiting for a que that never came), among others, Wilbur finally decided to hack into his account to end the stream. And then he called Tom's mom, and, well. 

It had never really hit him that Tommy was gone, not truly. And he supposed the same was true for Tubbo.

But he said nothing. Just sat there. Awkwardly. 

Tubbo dried his tears and they quickly moved on to the next part: how Will knew. Which was a bit harder to explain, to say the least. 

He said as little as he could for the time being, and the two boys could very obviously tell he left bits out. But when they pressed, he evaded, and they eventually left it at that. 

They sat in silence for a while, Michael's running around the house the only noise. Ranboo eventually hummed and stood up. "Well, if you're right about Tommy, he's probably still in the prison. We should go get him."

Wilbur's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, I hadn't even thought of that. Fuck."

"What's so bad about the prison?" Tubbo asked. "Besides it being all inescapable and shit."

"Dream."  _ Fuck,  _ he need to get there fast. "Dream's so bad."

"Ah," Ranboo said, then stood. "We should probably get going then."

Wilbur left the house in a rush, though he noticed the other two staying behind for a second. When they came out, Tubbo had on armor as well, and both had swords fixed at their sides. 

"Wow, you guys are juped up, huh?"

"It's dangerous out there." Tubbo shrugged, then glanced over at Wilbur, still in his sweater. "We should probably get some for you too, to be honest."

Will hummed, the wrongness in his gut returning. "I, uh. I don't. Hmm."

"Oh yeah, you didn't like armor, did you?"

"Yeah."

Tubbo just hummed and moved on. Every part of Wilbur could tell that wasn't right.

They got to the prison soon enough, but they even sooner realized that Sam wasn't there. Wilbur kicked the wall in frustration, then jumped back as pain shot up his leg. 

"Sam's not responding," Tubbo said with a hum. Wilbur turned to see him holding what looked like a cheap phone. "We should check somewhere else."

"His house, maybe?"

Ranboo looked at him. "You know where his house is? I thought it was a secret. Or I have been there and just forgot, ha."

"Uh." Wilbur pulled a face. "I probably shouldn't tell you guys, actually." 

Tubbo rolled his eyes. "Let's go to the Badlands, then. He's probably there."

Remembering the vines, Wilbur blanched. "Actually let's not go to the Badlands." 

"Do you want to find Sam or not, Wilbur?  _ Jesus." _

Wilbur looked over at Ranboo, who winced apologetically.  _ Bad day, _ the teen mouthed, and Wilbur gave a knowing nod. 

"Fine, fine," Wilbur relented. "Let's go."

When they passed by Tommy's house, Will paused. "We should probably check here," he said.

Tubbo turned. "But the Badlands?"

"I know, just…" Wilbur sighed, not having a good answer. "I don't know, nevermind."

Right as they were about to leave again, the door to the house opened and a… a green  _ something  _ stepped out. It had a creeper face, though it wasn't a creeper, and its expression looked worn. It paused when it saw the group.

"Sam!" Ranboo exclaimed, and Wilbur raised his eyebrows because  _ this  _ was Sam? "We were just on our way to see you, actually."

"Hey, Ranboo, Tub-- holy shit." His eyes landed on Wilbur. "Oh, he actually did it, didn't he?"

"Did what?" Tubbo asked.

"Dream, he- Tommy said he was reviving Wilbur. And he did it. Holy  _ shit." _

Will laughed. "You're telling me."

"Wait, does that mean-  _ wait.  _ Are you from here? Like, this…  _ universe?" _

Wilbur's eyes widened. "You know? Can you help?"

"I mean-" Sam ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his crown a bit. "Well. I don't know right now. I think you should talk to Tommy."

"Tommy's here?" Will and Tubbo said at the same time. They looked at each other. 

"Uh, yeah." Sam glanced between them, sensing the tension. "I got him out of the cell about an hour, hour and a half ago now. You can come see him."

He turned around and went back into the house. The other three looked at each other before heading in, Ranboo taking the lead and Wilbur last. Sam moved to let them into the back room, and they all filed in, all eyes on Tommy. When the boy's eyes landed on Wilbur, he gasped. His eyes widened as they landed on the merch logo. 

"Will? Wilbur?" His voice was so soft, so unsure. "…Will Gold?"

Wilbur almost cried. "Yeah Toms, it's me. I'm here."

Tommy jumped up and grabbed Wilbur in a hug. Will hugged back just as tight, his wings wrapping around them bo--

Wait, no. That wasn't right. Wilbur held him tighter.

"I was so scared," Tom whispered. Wilbur could hear his tears in his voice. "Dream, in prison, he-- I had to get him to revive you, it was my only fuckin hope, I'm so sorry, I don't even know how to get back and now we're both stuck here--"

"Shh, shh. I'm here now, that's all that matters. We'll figure it out. You're smart, yeah?"

Tommy chuckled. "Yeah, I'm the smartest man alive, bitch."

Wilbur laughed, and Tommy pulled back from the hug, wiping his eyes. He took a second to really look his friend over. "How come you got to keep your clothes and I didn't?"

"Maybe because you actually had a body in this world."

Tom hummed and raised his eyebrows at that, a soft agreement. "Maybe. Can't believe you came in your own damn merch though, you fuckin egotistical prick."

Will laughed again.

"Ok," Sam said, interrupting their conversation. The two pulled out of their hug and Tommy took a full step back, reluctant to be seen showing affection. "We need to come up with a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep writing chapters like. At least 3 ahead of where we're at right now and not finishing the one I have for tomorrow and ahhHHH
> 
> But in other news chapters 8 and 9 (and also probably 7 I just haven't written much of that one yet) will be very pog and I'm very excited for them however we do need to like. Get there first lol. Also after that point I haven't written anything LMAO but again! We'll get there when we get there


	5. Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Brain: And then dream realizes that he DOES have the coordinates, they were just buried under shit on his desk, but now they have to find out how to get this info to the others because the last time seemed like an accident and--  
> Me double checking the last chapter I published to make sure I'm posting the right one now: bro they're not even back at the prison yet  
> My brain:  
> Me:  
> My brain:  
> Me:  
> My brain: wh a t
> 
> Anyways. Two chapters today! Because A) they're both really short B) the second one's mainly filler and C) I might not post tomorrow :( Weekends = work instead of school = less time I can write, so I might not be able to finish the next chapter by then. But we'll see!! We'll see. I've been consistently underestimating myself with this fic so

"Ok," Sam said. Tommy pulled back. "We need to come up with a plan."

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, for sure. My main theory right now is that something happened while Dream was resurrecting me, and somehow he got _me_ instead of, you know, Tommy."

"That does check out," Wilbur said. "You-- When you went missing, it was right as Dream was supposed to revive you in the stream."

 _Went missing?_ Tommy looked at Will. "What do you mean I went missing?"

"Uh…"

"No, Will, tell me." He could feel himself getting angry, but he felt that it was earned. Wilbur said nothing. "Tell me, you- you fuckin' bitch! I wanna know!" He had been _missing_ in the real world and he didn't even know?! And that meant Wilbur would be missing now, too, and Tommy was the one to blame for that. 

_I'm the one to blame for everything, for L'manburg and Wilbur's death and exile and everything with Techno and--_

Sam was in his face, hands on his shoulders, bringing him back down to reality. Tommy took a few deep breaths and stepped back from where he had somehow gotten in a fighting stance. 

Those weren't his thoughts. That wasn't how he would have normally reacted to something like that. Tommy took another deep breath to try and keep the panic from rising in his chest again. 

"Sorry."

"It's fine," Sam and Wilbur said at the same time. Tommy huffed out a laugh. 

"I mean, it's not, but."

Ranboo smiled sympathetically. "I think it was a valid reaction." 

Tommy didn't make eye contact as he nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"I'll talk to you about it more later, alright?" Wilbur said, and when Tom nodded, he continued, "Ok. As I was saying, you are right, that does seem to be the most reasonable explanation for what's going on. He was supposed to say he had it memorized, right? And that's how he didn't have it in the prison?"

"Yeah."

"What?" Tubbo looked between them. 

Wilbur ignored him. "I think he didn't memorize it as well as he thought he did. But if we can get the book, then we can figure out what he did wrong and do the same thing. Or something along those lines. Then we can reverse the process."

"But as you just said, he doesn't have the book," Sam added. "I can confirm that he didn't bring anything into the cell. We have no idea where he would have put it."

Tommy groaned. "Oh yeah, he doesn't have a fucking house we can rob. Shit."

Tubbo looked sceptical. "Reversing the process sounds a lot like you guys just dying again."

Tommy shook his head frantically. "It's not going to be like that if we can help it, right?"

Will hummed. "Yeah, but… One of us could die and then come back? Scope out the area, if that makes sense?"

"Again, no book," Sam said.

"Will, you can't actually be suggesting we fucking kill ourselves."

"Thing is," said Wilbur, "I think this is our best lead yet."

Tommy hummed, high pitched and doubtful. Besides the fact that no part of him wanted to die, SMP him or no, it just didn't seem like a good idea. Not well thought out. And he knew a thing or two about not well thought out plans. 

"It's _not,_ though," he said. "We could always go talk to Dream. He's- he's right there, you know. Like a ten minute walk, if you're fast about it." When nobody responded, he continued, "Look, Will, he resurrected you for a reason. He's- You know, the--" Tom glanced at the others, then leaned in to the man and whispered, "The script, man, your whole thing right now is you're supposed to be helping him. He's expecting you to go to him at some point, because that's what's _supposed_ to happen. And maybe you could get info on the book out of him. Besides," he added, "I don't-- I'd rather not die if I can help it."

Wilbur nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think that might work. Maybe. We'd have to be careful, though, if he even starts to think I'm not the Wilbur I'm supposed to be, I'm done for."

"So, you're going back to Dream then?" Ranboo seemed sceptical. 

Tommy grinned. "Yep! Well, Will is. Yeah."

"I think one of us should go in with him, just saying," Tubbo added.

"Well, not you." When Tubbo just squinted, Tommy continued, "I know you're not, like, my Tubbo, but you're still _Tubbo,_ ya know? And this Dream can hurt you, a lot. Same with Ranboo, actually, I don't think he could either. But I mean, _I_ could--"

Wilbur's hand tightened on Tommy's shoulder. "No. You're not going back in there."

Tommy groaned. "Aw come _on,_ man--"

"No, he's right," said Sam. "I don't want you going back in either. That leaves me, but… I do need to stay on the outside of the cell to work the controls."

"One of us could do that," Ranboo suggested.

"No offense, but I don't trust you. Not with Pandora, not when messing something up means Dream getting out."

Tubbo hummed. "Then I'll go."

"Tubbo--" Tommy started. 

"No, no, Wilbur will protect me. Won't he?" The boy turned and raised his eyebrows at Will, who hesitated before nodding. "Besides, I'll probably have to have an invis pot anyways. Dream won't even know I'm there."

Tommy squinted, unsure, before sighing and nodding. "Fine, fine. Tomorrow though. I still haven't gotten my damn nap."

He started to walk back to his room when Wilbur called out, "No, wait! I wanna explore a bit more."

Tommy turned and groaned. Sam laughed before taking it as his queue to leave. As he shut the door, Tommy said, "But I'm _tired."_

"Yeah, yeah, and you can sleep later, come on." He turned to the other teens with a grin. "Hey Ranboo, show me that hotel you were talking about. I wanna see."

Before the enderman could say anything, Tommy bursted out, "You're staying at fuckin' _Bee n' Boo?!_ ("Hey, now--!") I cannot BELIEVE you, Wilbur, betrayer of your own _family,_ disgrace to this household--" Wilbur was laughing. _"Don't laugh!"_

"I'm not, I'm not!"

"Uh _huh._ Hey, you know what'll make it up to me?"

"What?"

"You got your phone still on ya?"

"I swear to god, child, if you ask me if I have _games on my phone--"_

"No! I just wanted to get a picture in front of _my_ hotel, obviously the vastly superior one. C'mon, please?"

Wilbur dramatically sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine! Whatever the fucking _gremlin child_ wants, apparently." 

But Tommy could see in his eyes that Will wasn't truly annoyed. He ran up and caught Wilbur's arm then ran out the door, dragging the man behind him with a laugh.


	6. Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha yea babey :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter I've written for anything ever lmao

Tubbo watched Tommy and Wilbur check out the front of Big Innit Hotel together, their laughs of excitement reaching all the way back to the doorway of his house, where Ranboo and Tubbo still stood. Sam was further down the walkway, watching as well. Tubbo watched as Sam Nook, a humanoid green android with a creeper face and raccoon ears, came out of the building. Both figures seemed surprised at his presence, but Sam Nook clearly was overjoyed by Tommy's return. Wilbur laughed, took out a strange device (it looked like a comms, just…  _ more),  _ and held it up as Tommy posed with the android. 

"I don't trust them."

Ranboo looked over at him. "Why not? They seem fine to me."

"You… you weren't here when Will was alive, but… Right near the end, he started to go insane. Like, genuinely fucked in the mind. He started L'manburg, but he was also one of the people who blew it up. And there was other stuff, too, back when he and Tommy were in Pogtopia. I mean, I don't know the full extent of it, but… based on what Tommy's told me, it wasn't good.  _ He  _ wasn't good. But he was damn good at faking it."

They both looked back over at the other pair. Wilbur was now pointing his comms(?) around, trying to get everything as if he was taking a video. Tommy shouted and Wilbur turned back to him and Sam Nook with a laugh. Sam, normal Sam, went over to them as well, and the three started talking. 

Ranboo hummed. "And you think that's what's happening here?"

Tubbo shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I wouldn't doubt it, though."

"I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt for now. Because, well, there isn't any evidence against what they're saying so far. And Tommy agreeing with him kinda confirms it."

"It  _ doesn't, _ though." Tubbo frowned. "There hasn't been any evidence  _ for  _ what they're saying, either. And you never know, maybe… Maybe Tommy went insane, too. Dream did kill him and bring him back. And- and a lot of other stuff, too."

"You really think so?"

Tubbo sighed. "He hasn't even said hi yet, Ranboo. Like… I'd thought he'd at least  _ acknowledge  _ me or something. He's barely said five words to me."

"But those five words were him being worried about you. It's pretty obvious that he does care, somewhere… deep inside."

"It shouldn't  _ be _ that deep, though. The Tommy I know either cares or he doesn't and he's not afraid to yell his opinion about it at the top of his lungs."

"But that's the thing, isn't it? Wilbur said they aren't the ones you know. They aren't the ones who know you. I think, maybe, Tommy's just… freaked out, because you aren't his Tubbo. Like how you're freaked out because he's not your Tommy. But he's staying with Wilbur so much because that  _ is  _ his Wilbur. If that makes sense?"

"It… yeah. Maybe." Tubbo watched as the group by the hotel laughed. Wilbur's hand was on Tommy's shoulder, a comforting presence as he hugged the boy close. "Is it selfish that I want it to be my Tommy?"

"I don't think so."

"Do… Do you think my Tommy will ever be back? Or is he gonna be dead forever?"

Ranboo looked away. "I don't know, Tubbo. I honestly don't."

They were silent as the group moved away from the hotel and back towards Tommy's house. Wilbur held up his comms(?) triumphantly. "We're getting a group photo! Everyone in front of the door."

"This will be wonderful marketing material!" Sam Nook bubbled happily. "Seeing the great Tommyinnit in his own house. The hotel-goes will be able to easily relate!"

Tommy laughed like a madman. "I don't know how the fuck I understand you, but well fucking said, Big Man! Well fucking said!"

Tubbo ended up beside Tommy once he calmed down, arm around his shoulders. Tommy looked over at him, then up at his horns. A conflicted expression flashed across the taller boy's face as he looked over them, and for the first time since Schlatt's presidency, Tubbo was self conscious about them. He ducked his head, careful to not hit the other boy in the face. 

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered. 

_ Tommy isn't one to apologize.  _ "I--" Tubbo looked back at Will, who was trying to get the group to smile. He did his best. The pictures were taken, and Tubbo ducked his head down again. "It's ok, Big Man. It's ok."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I would like to take these notes to gush a bit, because oh my god. Ohh my god. 4.5 THOUSAND hits?? 76 comments??? Over 100 bookmarks??? Yall it hasn't even been a week sjdbshjsgs I love yall so much, thank you for taking the time to read this weird little story.
> 
> Also big shoutout to all the commenters, my beloveds. You guys keep asking me questions that make me really think about where I'm going with this story and give me ways to make the characters better and richer and more, you know, in character. I mean this in so many ways: this fic would not be where it is without yall. Seriously, thank you. I know I don't respond to every comment, but know that I read them all and that they make my day. <3 Love yall, happy weekend!


	7. Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I have underestimated myself haha
> 
> Also I'm thinking about unanoning this and also maybe dropping my tumblr 👀👀 I've gotten a lot of positive feedback and I'm feeling a lot less anxious about having it up now lol

The next morning, Ranboo and Tommy stayed behind while Wilbur, Sam, and Tubbo went to the prison.

"You sure you'll be ok?" Wilbur asked as he shrugged on the cloak Sam gave him. 

Tommy scoffed. "I'm not a fucking child, Will, you can go on."

"But if he does get into any trouble I'll be sure to scold him." Ranboo smiled and Wilbur returned it with a shit-eating smirk. 

Tommy sputtered. "Hey! Not fucking funny!"

The two watched as the small group left. Tommy turned back into his house with a sigh. "Anything you wanna do while we wait?"

"Oh, well, I haven't written in my journal in a bit, I was kinda hoping to do that before too long."

_ His memory journal.  _ "Oh, yeah, for sure. Go ahead dude. I'll do some, uh… inventory sorting? I guess? I don't want to go too far away without you."

Ranboo smiled. "Sure, sounds good! Oh, wait, have you had any food yet? You look hungry."

Tommy was suddenly aware of the growing hole in his stomach. The only thing he had eaten so far since coming to this world was some spare raw potatoes back in the prison, and needless to say, those… weren't good. At all. They were raw potatoes, what did he expect? "Oh please man, I'm fuckin' starving over here."

Ranboo proceeded to pull cooked steak out of his pocket. "Here!"

"UhhHhh. Uh." Tommy cautiously took the pocket steak. Holding it now, he could tell it was a stack of about 15 or so.  _ "Um." _

Ranboo smiled. Tommy grimaced back and took a bite out of the meat.

All things considered, it was actually pretty good. The first one was gone after only about three bites, and the second disappeared soon after.

Now he was full. And still awkwardly holding the cooked steak. 

"You can put that away, you know," Ranboo said.

"Won't it go bad?"

"How do you mean?"

_ Food doesn't go bad in minecraft, does it? Oh my god.  _ "... Nevermind."

Tommy thought for a second and the steaks left his hand as they went into his inventory, just like the stuff from the chest had. Not that he knew how to access his inventory, but he'd worry about that later.

He spent a while simply going through his house and digging around. He wasn't the most organized person, and he doubted he was about to be, but when he looked in chests, everything seemed to be where he left it the last time he was here in-game. 

Curious, he decided to experiment a bit. He grabbed a handful of sticks and went back to the main room, where he knew a crafting table was. Ranboo glanced up from where he sat in the corner, but ultimately paid him no mind, instead continuing to write. 

Slowly, unsure, Tommy put the sticks down on the table in the shape that would make a pickaxe. He put the last one in place, and… 

Nothing happened.

"Huh."

Ranboo looked up again, now fully paying attention. "Oh, if you're trying to make something, then just press the image on the side of it to confirm and then pick it up."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Crouching down, Tommy could now see the preview image of the wooden pickaxe in a little glass insert on the side of the square table.  _ "Huh." _ He pressed it and it lit up. When he stood back up, a fully formed wooden pickaxe sat on top. "Oh! I do like that, actually." He picked it up and tossed it around in his hand for a second, then let it fall into his inventory 

Ranboo smiled and went back to writing. "Is it different in your world?"

"Well, in my world it's a fucking videogame, so. I'd say so, yeah. It opens a whole new menu when you do it."

"Oh. Sounds weird."

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is. Speaking of which, how the fuck do I get to my inventory?"

Ranboo continued on to explain the different mechanics Tommy asked about. (Inventory couldn't be directly seen, you just had to remember what you have and summon it. "I have trouble with that bit, hah. Sometimes I'll feel that it's full and pull out something I didn't even know existed." Coords and other F3 info could be figured out through tablets you had to buy through villagers. And Ranboo didn't know what Tommy meant by "FOV" and "Master Volume" so Tom grumbled and left it at that.)

Tommy then took a minute to go down into the sewers and try out the pickaxe. He hit the stone in front of himself a few times, and it crumbled into cobblestone beneath him. He tried to pick it up, but it wouldn't fit. His inventory was full. He groaned and threw the pickaxe aside before going back upstairs.

He didn't know why he was so pissed about it, and that doubt made him even more pissed. He was  _ Tommy fucking Innit,  _ yeah? Why couldn't he figure shit out already? He slammed his fist against the wall as he went up the stairs, and cried out as pain shot up his arm. 

He was depressed and also so fucking  _ angry  _ at everything and he didn't know what to do. Sure it was fun writing all these fucked up things to happen to his character, but now it was really biting him in the ass, huh? 

Plus his head fucking hurt. He stopped at the top of the stairs and groaned.

Ranboo looked up. "You ok?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. Big man big thoughts, ya know?"

Ranboo hummed and looked back down at his book. "You know, you don't have to keep pretending to be my world's Tommy all the time around me, right?"

"What?" 

"Like, I know Tubbo's being weird about it, but I don't mind."

"You should." Tom sat down on a chest. "I know I sure fuckin mind."

When Ranboo didn't respond, Tommy continued, "I didn't ask for this, ya know? I was just gonna have some fun with my friends in Minecraft and then all this happened and I--" He sighed. "It sucks. There are these two voices in my head, your Tommy and- and  _ me,  _ my Tommy, and I don't know which one to listen to anymore. I just want things to go back to normal."

"With the ways things are going, I don't think anything will be normal for a while."

Tommy sighed and put his head in his hands.

Ranboo hummed. "I know I'm not really helping much, but I know Captain Puffy is starting a therapy service. She might be able to help?"

Tommy thought about it, about all the times he's talked to her, about the way Twitter seemed to want her to "give the children therapy." She was nice. "Yeah, maybe."

"Let's go, then. I'm getting cramped sitting like this anyways." 

Tommy smiled at that, and they both went outside.

As they walked, Tommy noticed that nobody else was around. They were probably off doing their own thing; he knew well enough that most people moved out of the greater SMP area once L'manburg was gone and the egg started taking over more. But still, it was… errie, walking around what looked like a ghost town. 

"Hey, let's stop by my hotel first. I haven't seen the insides yet."  _ And maybe there's someone inside. _

"Sure, we probably have plenty of time."

Tommy jogged over to the hotel and entered, Ranboo trailing in after him. He froze right as he hit the threshold, staring down the person at the front desk. 

Jack Manifold stared Tommy down right back, the pen in his hand dropping. 

"What are you doing here?" Tommy asked incredulously.  _ What do I mean, I know what he's doing here--  _

Jack gaped. "Wha- What am  _ I  _ doing here?! What are  _ you  _ doing here is more like it, you- you're  _ dead!  _ You died!"

Anger flared up in Tommy again. "Oh my god, we get it, ok? I died, I came back, so fucking  _ what?  _ Now why are you behind  _ my  _ fucking front desk?"

"Your desk?  _ Your desk?"  _ Jack looked like he was about to explode with how red his face was. "No,  _ no,  _ I-- It's my hotel now, ok? You died! Dead people can't own things."

"And what have you done to earn it, huh?"

Jack sputtered. "I- I worked hard! I upgraded this place--" He gestured angrily towards the chests in the corner, "I promoted business, I- I've done more for this hotel than you  _ ever  _ have! People actually  _ stayed  _ in it because of me!"

Tommy hummed doubtfully.  _ No, he's right, you  _ know _ he's right, you've seen his streams, you know what he's been doing--  _ "Yeah, no, I don't--  _ no." _

"What do you mean 'no'?! I'm telling the truth!"

"Yeah, telling the truth about fucking stealing my shit! I've already gone through  _ so _ much and then I come back to- to  _ this?!"  _ He was practically screeching now. "I cannot fucking believe you!"

He felt Ranboo's hand on his shoulder. "Tommy, I think we should go."

Jack nodded frantically. "Yes! please do!"

Tommy knew, he  _ knew  _ that he was acting like an asshole. But it was justified, wasn't it? He just came back from the dead to find out that his coworker and good friend had  _ taken over his business-- _

But he already knew that. He knew that, out of character. If he could just stop acting for  _ one fucking second,  _ then maybe he could calm down and have a nice conversation.

But he didn't feel like he was acting. That was the problem. 

Tommy could feel the pressure in his head build as the two conflicting sides of hin continued to scream.

_ He stole our hotel! Fucking kill him, show him what he's done to us! _

_ No, no, he grieved for us. He's  _ sad,  _ he's in  _ pain,  _ you watched his streams! You know what he's going through! _

_ YEAH BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE GOING THROUGH, DOES HE? HE STOLE OUR FUCKING HOTEL! _

_ HE  _ DIDN'T, _ THOUGH! CALM DOWN, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! SHOW SOME EMPATHY! _

_ HE DOESN'T DESERVE IT! _

The pressure popped. Or, well, exploded, really. "YOU CAN KEEP THE FUCKING HOTEL FOR ALL I CARE! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT! I FUCKING DON'T! So just--" He screamed between his teeth. "I'm leaving. I'm gone, bye,  _ bitch,  _ I'm- I-- C'mon, Ranboo, let's go."

He was halfway out the door when he realized Ranboo wasn't following him. He turned to face him, concerned. "Ranboo? Let's  _ go,  _ come on." No response. "... You ok?"

Ranboo shivered. "Do- do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The- the  _ chanting." _

The anger fueling the air shifted and settled into an eerie suspense. Behind the counter, Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."

A shiver went up Tommy's spine.  _ Is it the same chanting as before? But, no, wait, it can't be-- Ranboo isn't dead. And Jack isn't either, not anymore. _

Tommy was shocked out of his thoughts when Ranboo shivered again, curled in on himself, and fucking  _ glitched.  _ Behind him, the same thing happened to Jack.

For a couple seconds, instead of a lanky enderman standing in front of him, a teenage boy a little taller than Tommy was there. A half black and half white face mask covered his mouth. That plus his brown hair seemed familiar, but Tom didn't have enough time to place it. He looked around, down at his hands, then up at Tommy, clearly incredibly fucking confused (as was Tom, to be quite honest), and his eyes widened. 

Jack, Tommy could see, had become… Well,  _ Jack.  _ He looked the same enough, but his hoodie and 3d glasses were gone. Instead he was wearing a lazy looking outfit of a different hoodie and sweatpants, and he held a phone loosely in his left hand. He looked around wildly. "What in the  _ shit?!" _

Tommy turned back to the other boy, who was still staring at him in shock. "Tom--"

His word was interrupted by a glitch and Ranboo stood in front of him again. "--my? Wait,  _ wait, _ what the  _ fuck--" _

He glitched again, but only for a second; the other boy could barely be seen through the fuzz before the enderman came back. He stumbled, grabbing his head. When he opened his mouth, a loud enderman noise came out, and then he stammered. "Uh- sorry, sorry. What just  _ happened?" _

"Um." Tommy stared, dumbfounded. "You tell me, dude. You got all, like…  _ glitchy _ for a second, it was weird."

He looked back at Jack, who was back to normal as well. He was leaning against the counter, head in his hands. "Get out," he said.

"Yeah, that's what we were in the middle of fucking doing when whatever the fuck that was happened--"

"Get  _ out.  _ Get out of my  _ fucking  _ hotel."

Tommy raised his hands defensively and backed out the door. "Ok, ok! I'm getting, I'm getting. Jesus, some people."

Once outside, Tommy shook himself off. "Let's just keep going to Puffy's office, yeah? She might still be able to help."

Ranboo nodded, still too scared to speak. 

They quickly made their way to to other side of town. Luckily, they didn't run into anyone else. Tommy didn't know what they would have done if they did. 

Ranboo knocked on Puffy's door, and a soft "Come in!" Was heard from inside. The boy opened it and stepped in, Tommy following in the shadow of his lanky form.

Behind the desk in the small room stood a sheep hybrid. She was significantly more sheep-like than Tubbo, even though she didn't have horns. Her head was fully animalistic, and Tom could hear the light  _ clomp  _ of her hooves as she moved around. The wool around her face went back like a long, full head of hair, and it was died rainbow. She wore a pirate's cap, but she managed to make it look professional. Her expression was frazzled as she looked over the papers on her desk, but she didn't seem to be taking any of the information in.

The sheep looked up, and her eyes widened as she saw the two standing in her doorway. "Tommy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: THINK FAST *throws some plot at you, it hits you in the face and gives you a black eye* oh my goodness I didnt think that would hit you I'm so sorry oh my god let me go get an ice pack oh god oh goodness


	8. Wilbur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to what I'd say is the turning point of the fic! I'm really excited for what's to come, y'all! Believe it or not tomorrow's chapter is in fact already done ahead of time I am THAT excited haha
> 
> Also I keep reading y'all's comments and like. Imploding bc I WANT to answer your questions SO BAD but I CANT because SPOILERS and AHHH!! But! A lot of answers will be in today and tomorrow's chapters so look out for that
> 
> Basically, I'm excited bc yall are getting excited for the exact things I hoped for and!!! Ahhhdbdvsjsv I can't WAIT to get the rest of this book out

Wilbur, Sam, and Tubbo went to the prison while Ranboo and Tommy stayed behind. Once Will was certain Tom would be safe, his group left, though his shoulders were still tense.  ~~ His wings were puffed up, primary feathers extended as if he was going to fly away at any sec-- ~~

No, wait, he. He didn't have wings. Why did he keep thinking that? He adjusted the cloak Sam had given him to replace Phil's sweater with stiff hands. He still wore his merch underneath, though with the logo hidden in shadow, it looked like a normal shirt. He prayed it would be enough to fool Dream.

The first half of their journey passed in peace, nobody crossing their path at all. About five minutes in, though, Sam stopped.

Wilbur looked forward and saw a figure on a hill before them. He put a hand up, trying to see better, but with the sun at their back, the figure was too shrouded in shadow for him to tell who it was. 

"Hello?" Sam called out.

The person jumped up and off the hill, practically gliding down and landing in front of them. Tubbo took a step back, and Sam put a protective hand out in front of him. The figure stood, and Wilbur watched as the shadows lifted from their face.

It was Phil. Well, Philza, really. His face was the same but also not, and the blond hair of his avatar was tied into a loose ponytail under the bucket hat he wore. Will knew that the Phil he knew would never let his hair get that long. He wore a large cloak, and when Wilbur looked closely, he could see the broken remains of wings widen within. The red brooch that clasped his cloak together was in the shape of a hardcore heart, and Will couldn't help but smile a bit at the detail.

Philza stepped forward, face in shock. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, which, well, Will supposed he had. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, trembling, barely above a whisper. "Wilbur?" 

Will smiled. "Hey, uh. Dad."

A tear ran down Phil's face as he put a hand on Wilbur's cheek. "Oh.  _ Oh  _ my God, son, you're… You're  _ alive." _

"Heh. Yeah, I am."

Phil pulled him into a tight, suffocating hug, burying his face into his shoulder. Will stood for a second, arms out, unsure what to do, before he settled into the hug as well. 

Philza pulled back after a minute, concern etched across his face. "Where are your wings?"

Will winced and gave a nervous chuckle. "I really wish people would stop asking about that, honestly."

"Sorry, sorry. I… I get it." Phil smiled. "Who did this? Revived, you, I mean. Do you know?"

"Well, I heard from some sources," Will nodded at Tubbo, who he knew was there when Dream originally revealed the nature of the book, "That Mr. Dream Was Taken got a book from Schlatt about how to raise the dead way back in the Pogtopia days. And he's just decided to bring me back."

He saw Tubbo's confused face, no doubt as to how in the hell did Wilbur know these things, but the man paid him no mind. 

Phil nodded, glancing between the other two for only a second. "So you're going to the prison then? I assume so, with Sam here."

"Oh, uh. Yeah, basically."

"Why, though? To say thank you? Say fuck you? What? What's the deal here?"

Wilbur shrugged. "Either one, really. Mostly I just want the book for myself. It's a lot of power, you know."

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw Tubbo shift on his feet uncomfortably and the very clear stink eye the boy was giving him. Philza, however, just smiled and patted Wilbur on the back. 

"I always liked your style, kid."

Will smiled back shakily. The voice in the back of his head surged with pride, and he did his best to squash that down again. "Do you, uh. You wanna come with us?"

He could very very clearly see Tubbo and Sam's subtle attempts at discouraging this turn of events, but Philza paid them no mind.

"Sure! It's been a while since I've seen the bastard anyways."

And with that, the group continued towards the prison, with a notable amount of new tension between them. 

Sam spoke up after a minute or so. "So… what brings you to the Greater SMP area, anyways? I thought you lived over with Technoblade now, in the Tundra."

Philza shrugged. "Heard Tommy died. I just…" he hummed. "Wanted to say goodbye. Something kept pushing me, I just wanted to get it off my conscience."

Will winced at the choice of words. Wilbur, however, nodded along. 

"That was like last week, though," Tubbo said. "Why didn't you come earlier?"

He shrugged. "Didn't want to."

Wilbur glanced over at Sam, who looked like he was about to fight Phil on the spot. And honestly, Will wouldn't have stopped him if he did.  ~~ He knew that if it came down to it, though, he'd protect his father with his dying breath. ~~

A minute or so later, Will watched as Tubbo ran up to stand next to Philza. 

"Does Wilbur seem… different to you? At all?" The boy asked in a whisper as he glanced back at Will. Wilbur looked away, pretending that he wasn't listening in.

Phil hummed questioningly. "No, not really. Why?"

"Are you sure?"

"Do you  _ want  _ him to be different?" Phil stopped.

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying--"

"Look, mate, I'm just glad my son's back and that he's back to normal. If he seems  _ different  _ that's probably just because he's been dead for however many months. If you have any more problems, bring it up with him at least, yeah?"

Tubbo backed off sheepishly. "Yeah, ok. I got it."

Philza scoffed and kept going. Will heard a soft "rude" from Tubbo before the boy went back next to Sam, and Will watched as Phil stormed off. He needed to talk to him about this. Though he might not take the news of Will not being his actual son well, if these past few minutes were anything to go by.

Later, though. Right now he needed to talk to Dream. 

They made it to the prison eventually, Sam leading them through into the lobby. As the other two put their stuff in the lockers, Wilbur froze. He looked at Sam. 

"I don't want to die."

Sam looked up from where he was pocketing the warden's key. "What?"

"I don't want to die," Will repeated. "I don't- I-" His breath hitched. "You can search me, be as thorough as you need to, but I don't- I can't- I don't want to die, I don't, I don't--"

"Hey, hey, calm down." Sam's hands were out, palms up as he spoke softly and tried to calm Wilbur down. "You'll respawn during the searching process, don't worry."

"But, like, we don't even know if the respawning will  _ work _ because I'm not in my minecraft body, I'm in a normal, human one, and- and--" Will whined, high in his throat. "I don't have anything on me, I swear, I swear, I swear--"

"Shh, hey. It'll be ok."

"But what if I  _ die? _ Forever?"

"Weren't you the one suggesting that maybe death is the answer to all this?"

"Yeah, but--"

"It'll be ok, Wilbur. I promise. It won't even hurt."

At that moment, Philza stepped out of his locker. He seemed oblivious, again. Or maybe just choosing the simpler answer, the easier one. Will knew this world had a shortage of them these days. "Ok! Ready. Will, you got your stuff put away?"

Wilbur took in a shaking breath and shrugged. "I don't have anything anyways, so." 

Tubbo stepped out as well, and Sam closed the lockers. 

"Well then," Sam said, stepping forward to take the lead. "Let's get going, yeah?"

The very first checkpoint was a search. Wilbur knew this, he knew it, but it still freaked him out nonetheless. 

Tubbo went first. He put his hand on the bed in the corner, and when he lifted it, blue whisps of energy followed his hand for a second before fading. 

"Set my spawn, I'm ready," the boy said, and Will couldn't help but look as Sam pulled a lever, dropping poison on the boy, and--

And Tubbo appeared back on the bed, perfectly fine. He slipped off and moved to stand by the door to the next area.

Philza nudged Wilbur forward. "Well go on, then."

"Nuh uh, old men first."

Phil laughed and stepped forward. The same thing happened, and he appeared in the bed, again, perfectly fine. 

Will could do this. He could. It would work. He shook out his arms and walked towards the bed. When he touched it, the same blue whisps followed him, tickling his fingers. This… this would work, yeah. He stepped into the square where the poison would land.

"Ready?" Sam asked. 

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

Will felt as a bottle broke over his head, and then winced as the liquid poured down his hair and face. He smelt its sickly sweetness for a second, then its bitter taste as some went into his mouth, and then he was choking, he was choking he was choking he couldn't  _ breathe  _ was was going to  _ die-- _

And then he was back on the bed. He gasped for air with a hand on his chest. Philza was looking at him weirdly.

"You alright, son?"

"Hmm?" Wilbur breathed away the last of his panic. "Oh, yeah. Just… Death. Yeah. You know."

Philza hummed, but didn't comment.

They made it to the room before the cell quickly enough. The different potions that had to be splashed on them and their effects were starting to make Will go lightheaded, the smell of both water breathing and fire resistance on his clothes starting to mingle in ways they probably should not. 

They all watched as the lava lowered. Sam looked at the three of them. "Ready?" 

Will took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."

Philza nudged him. "He's fine, mate, there's nothing to worry about."

Will and Tubbo made eye contact, doubt clear in both of their eyes. Tubbo looked away and pulled out one of the potions from Sam's bag. 

"Bottom's up," he said, and chugged it. Will watched as he went transparent, starting from his mouth until it reached the rest of his body. Small gray bubbles could be seen where he was standing. 

"Woah," Will said with a chuckle, and Phil looked at him. 

"What, never seen an invis potion before?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, of course. It's just, uh. It's been a while. One hour in the living world is a day in the afterlife, you know."

Philza seemed adequately shocked by that, and Wilbur took the change to step on the platform with no further questions. He felt the other two step on behind. 

When they got to the cell, Dream turned to look at them immediately. Though his smile was fixed, he seemed to get happier, somehow, at the sight of Wilbur. 

"It worked!" Dream laughed. "Oh, well, of course it did! I couldn't have gotten it wrong."

"Hello to you too, Dream."

"What brings you by?"

Wilbur smirked. He felt himself slipping into character; it felt so right and so unimaginably  _ wrong _ at the same time, especially since he was living it now. He couldn't stop, now that he had started. "Oh, you know, the usual. Finally got out of hell! Wanted to check on the guy that helped me out, wanted to see how it's going, you know! You  _ know." _

Dream laughed. "Oh, I've been shit, thanks for asking. That little  _ brat  _ Tommy hasn't been any help, either." Before Will could say anything about that, Dream turned. "And Philza?"

The winged man shrugged. "Same deal, mate. You brought back my son! Of course I'm willing to help you out, not like I haven't done it before."

"Speaking of which," Wilbur said. "How did you do it, by the way? I could have sworn that would have been impossible. To be quite honest, I was pretty happy being dead, you know. Nobody asked you to do this."

Dream laughed. "Actually, someone begged me not to. Which in my book, is almost the same as asking me 'please.'"

Will hated this. He hated him.  _ God _ he was about to be sick. 

He pushed on. "Really, now? Huh. Doesn't answer my question, though."

"Oh you and your getting straight to the point. You really want to know?"

"Yes."

Dream sighed.  _ "Fine,  _ ok, ok. When the Battle of Manburg happened, and I switched sides to be with Schlatt-- You remember that?"

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, well, I switched sides because Schlatt gave me a  _ book.  _ And I know what you're thinking, I know, I know! It sounds stupid, what the fuck can I do with some random book? Well, the thing is, Wilbur, this book isn't  _ random.  _ It brings people back to life."

Wilbur gasped just as he was supposed to, and Dream cackled. "I know! I  _ know,  _ I'm- I'm like a god now! Really! I control death! It's me! I can kill and I can bring people back over and over and  _ over  _ again, Wilbur! I--" He cut himself off with a laugh, and Will looked out of the corner of his eye at Philza, who was looking over at the green man with concern. The man looked up, and when he caught Wilbur's gaze, he simply raised his eyebrows skeptically.

Dream continued, "The thing is- Ok, Wilbur, you've got to keep this part a secret." He stepped closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. "The thing  _ is,  _ I think I've done it too much. Which sucks, obviously. I've only done it twice. I made this server, so I'm very…  _ attuned,  _ you could say, to the way it's working. Right now, the barrier between these two worlds is very thin. If I tried to bring someone else back, I could also very likely bring back someone I wouldn't want here."

"Like Mexican Dream?" Phil asked. 

_ "Don't say his fucking name." _

Wilbur laughed. "Ok, ok, calm down dude. And… by 'these two worlds', you mean this one and…?" 

"The afterlife, obviously." Dream tilted his head. "What else would I be talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing. Nevermind."

"... What other worlds are there, Wilbur?"

"Don't say my fucking name like that, jesus. It's creepy, man, I don't like it."

"You didn't answer my question."

Wilbur gulped. "There are no other worlds."

Dream was silent for a moment before whispering, "You're lying."

"Wha-  _ no--" _

"I can see right fucking through you, Wilbur!" He grabbed the other man's collar, shoving his mask in his face. Wilbur leaned as far away as he could with no avail.  _ "Tell me." _

"I'm telling the truth!"

Dream stared for a few more seconds before letting go and backing off. "Ok."

"Ok?"  _ He's giving up that easily?  _ He looked over and could see Phil looked just as surprised as he did. 

"Yeah. I mean, I don't… I wouldn't say I believe you, not 100%, but you're obviously not going to tell me anything, so."

"I already told you everything."

Dream hummed. "See, that's where I'm not so sure. You know, I'm not even sure you're really Wilbur."

Will tried to school his expression the best he could, but could tell by the way Dream's body momentarily fizzled with bubbles that he saw right through him. And oh boy was Dream happy about it. 

Philza stepped forward. "The fuck you mean, mate? He's still my son."

Dream didn't even spare him a glance, eyes still trained on Will. "You're not. Are you?"

It wasn't even a question. Will tried to deflect. "What, so you're admitting to messing up the resurrection process? Like some… idiot?"

Dream chuckled darkly. "Oh I'm not an  _ idiot,  _ Wilbur Soot. Actually, if anything, I think I  _ perfected  _ the process! I've done something even better, something even more powerful. But hey, there's only one way to find out."

And then he started to chant. It started soft, but it grew, and though Wilbur didn't know the words, they sounded painfully familiar.

"What are you doing?  _ Stop it." _

But Dream just kept chanting.

Behind him, Wilbur saw Philza wince, then lean on the wall for support as he used his free head to hold his head. The chanting grew louder, and then he… glitched? 

And Phil was standing in his place. 

Not Philza, the winged master of death, but  _ Phil,  _ Wilbur's friend. From real life. Wilbur's eyes widened and he watched as Phil glitched again and Philza was back. And then again and it was Phil. The man cried out, clutching his head, and Dream turned. Phil looked up and squinted, eyes moving between Wilbur and Dream then back to Wilbur. 

"Will?"

_ "Philza?" _

Phil turned around before he could respond, and Will turned to Dream with newfound fury in his eyes. No way in hell was anyone else getting stuck here, not on his watch. Wilbur screamed and tackled Dream. They both crashed to the floor, Wilbur on top. 

Though he struggled to land blows, Wilbur continued to fight the best he could because how _dare_ he. How dare he take Tommy away from his home and his friends and bring him to to this world just to hurt him, how dare he even _think_ about laying a fucking finger on Wilbur's brother in the first place. Or anyone, for that matter. How dare he. In a fit of desperation, Wilbur grabbed Dream's mask and slammed it down on the ground as hard as he could. 

It fazed through his jell body and hit the obsidian floor with a shatter. Wilbur pulled away a hand covered in green ooze to reveal a cracked mask.

Dream did not move. Faintly, Wilbur could hear Philza glitching back to his Minecraft form with a groan. The younger man stood up shakily, still staring down at Dream, who had unformed into a green puddle that was rapidly oozing throughout the cell.

Dream did not move. 

Tubbo, still invisible, groaned. "What the fuck was  _ that?"  _

Philza laughed weakly. "No clue. But uh, Will, mate. I think you killed him."

"Huh?" Wilbur looked up at him. "No, I- no, no, I--" He stared down at Dream. Dream did not move. "Huh."

Beside him, Tubbo faded back into existence, also looking down at the body. The boy kicked the mask. 

Dream did not move.

"Pog."

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr 😎😎 @mithrilbookofmystery   
> I have no other social media bc they all scare me lmao


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